After a period of quiet commotion, Garfield had infiltrated every Techno Union factory he could locate.
Then, without raising a single alarm, he returned safely to Coruscant.
Back at his lair within the Jedi Temple, the top-floor penthouse with its vast floor-to-ceiling windows, Garfield sprawled across a plush cushion.
Sunlight streamed in, warming his orange fur. A plate of delicacies sat within easy reach.
So comfortable. So enjoyable.
This, he thought, is the normal life an orange cat should have. Blissful.
The sun on his belly, good food by his side, and not a single care in the galaxy.
Then something nagged at the edge of his mind. He felt like he had forgotten something.
He blinked lazily.
The thought drifted away like a cloud. Under the warm sunshine, everything else was insignificant.
Garfield's leisurely appearance made Jean, who had rushed over to report, turn green with envy.
Her eyes were practically glowing with hunger.
As the saying went, petting a cat was a momentary pleasure. Petting one cat was an everlasting pleasure.
And as a king, petting Garfield was naturally much more satisfying than petting an ordinary cat.
In fact, Jean had discovered that she no longer felt anything for any other cat. Only this king of cats could satisfy her feline cravings.
"Boss~" Jean called out, her voice syrupy sweet.
Garfield's fur stood on end. It was so sweet, so cloying, he felt he couldn't take it.
"What?" he said flatly. "Let's get this straight, no kissing me."
Jean didn't care about Garfield's words. She lunged forward to hug him.
Garfield pressed his paws against her face, finally stopping her excessive advance.
Defeated, Jean had to settle for what she could get… at least she got a fur hug, even if she couldn't kiss him.
"Boss," she said, finally composing herself, "the competition is over. All rewards have been distributed."
"Your policy was indeed the best, we didn't spend any of our own capital, and we made a substantial profit through various GG implants. Here are the financial statements. Please take a look."
Garfield glanced at the documents, then tossed them to the robot dogs for calculation.
Only then did he remember something.
The champion, Kasvi. Those cat-like eyes. The name echoed in his mind… Kasvi. Kasvi. Pandora.
He connected the dots instantly.
Could it be that Chen's family came here to play?
Oh god. That was terrifying.
He briefly imagined rampaging Godzilla's and decided he would obediently hide in the Marvel Universe instead.
Then another thought struck him, the mechanical engineers at the Techno Union… where had they gotten those Gundam blueprints?
He had forgotten to ask.
A headache bloomed behind his eyes.
Am I already past the age of an old cat? No. He had only been a cat for ten years or so.
He wasn't a real orange tabby.
He pushed the thoughts aside and focused on Jean.
"Alright," he said. "You've handled everything perfectly. I consider you an invaluable talent."
"Therefore, I reward you with a ten million credit bonus. You keep five million, distribute the rest according to share size. Plus…" He paused.
"You get the chance to enjoy the sunshine with me."
Jean's heart nearly stopped.
As a typical cat lover, she would rather spend a wonderful afternoon with an orange cat than receive money, let alone a bonus.
The money meant nothing. The cat meant everything.
And so, with Garfield's somewhat reluctant participation, he spent most of the afternoon sunbathing with the famous beauty of Coruscant.
But good times, as always, were fleeting.
While Jean was still lost in her daydreams, Yoda came to visit Garfield.
And he did not come alone.
During this time, Garfield had completed his plans efficiently. The Jedi, however, had struggled.
They lacked Garfield's insightful decisiveness. They carried guilt over their past transgressions.
And Palpatine's shrewd manipulations had painted them into an increasingly narrow corner.
Under the behind-the-scenes maneuvering of certain large corporations and alliances, the Jedi's reputation grew more tarnished by the day.
Smaller allied nations were being used as pawns. There was even talk of the Galactic Republic declaring secession.
The pressure mounted.
As things escalated, even some of the Jedi's long-time allies began to doubt them.
Fewer allies meant more enemies. A vicious cycle. Yoda and his council found themselves in an extremely difficult position.
They needed help.
The clone army being built on Kamino was meant to be that help, but it wasn't ready.
Yoda, old and worn, lacked the necessary decisiveness to act alone.
And so, finally, they came to Garfield.
Yoda arrived with a delegation: Mace Windu, Ki-Adi-Mundi, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and several other Jedi Masters.
Even Count Dooku, who had rushed over specifically to meet Garfield, joined them.
"Greetings, King Garfield," they said in unison.
Garfield remained sprawled on his cushion, blinking lazily at the assembly.
"Greetings, Master Yoda. Young Egg. Obi-Wan. Octopus Head." He tilted his head. "Want to sunbathe together?"
Mace sighed helplessly. Young Egg. He knew he would never persuade this orange cat to change his address.
As for "Octopus Head"—that was Ki-Adi-Mundi, whose Cerean cranial ridge had earned him the unfortunate nickname. He was not, in fact, an octopus.
The other Jedi Masters included:
Master Plo Koon, of the Kel Dor species from Dorin.
Master Saesee Tiin, of the Iktotchi species.
Master Even Piell, of the Lannik species.
Master Oppo Rancisis, of the Thisspias species.
Master Coleman Trebor, of the Vurk species from Sembla.
And Master Kit Fisto, of the Nautolan species from Glee Anselm.
A strange collection of beings.
Dooku, a human from Serenno, was the only ordinary one in the group and even he had left the Jedi Order years ago.
Qui-Gon Jinn, also human, now worked alongside Garfield.
Jean took one look at the gathering of Jedi Masters and knew her cat-loving time was over.
As much as she adored Garfield, this was clearly not something she could involve herself in.
She stood up decisively and bid farewell. "Boss. Gentlemen. I'll head back to the company."
Garfield nodded. "Understood. Go ahead and get busy, Jean."
Hearing him call her Jean—not Miss Grey, not Ms. Grey, but Jean—made her heart flutter. Only good friends could call her that.
It seemed she had finally entered the boss's inner circle.
If Garfield had known that his casual words had sent his subordinate into a daydream, he would have chosen to say nothing at all.
But Jean was a small interlude.
After she left, the Jedi Masters, led by Yoda, approached Garfield.
"Master Garfield," Yoda said quietly, "we… we need your help."
The plea hung in the air.
Garfield straightened up from his cushion. He sat back on his haunches and looked directly into Yoda's ancient eyes.
"Master Yoda," he said slowly, "what could possibly make you come to me in such a pleading tone? Tell me."
He paused.
"If I can help…"